


I'm Grittney, Bitch

by Anonymous



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: 2020 presidential election, F/M, Four Seaons Total Landscaping, Oral Sex, orange fur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:27:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27494953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: This is what it is.The sad tale of how Rudy Giuliani lost the love of the Orange Monster who was unsettling sexy.
Relationships: Rudy Giuliani/Grittney
Comments: 10
Kudos: 16
Collections: Fanfic Anonymous





	I'm Grittney, Bitch

**Author's Note:**

> Full Credit to Riot Rogers at
> 
> https://twitter.com/RiotRogers/status/1326238168300052481?s=20
> 
> For the existence of Grittney. You are the hero the world needed

I'm Grittney, Bitch

Fuck. This was not at all what I had signed up for. I knew what I was. I was fucking upsettingly sexy is what I was. I am high class. I step out of my uber, looking around at the chain-link fence and just shake my head. I did not put a fresh coat of powder on my gorgeous toenails to be at a place like this. The lovely autumn annuals did nothing to make it seem classier. "Are you sure this is the address?"

"Four Seasons Total Landscaping." The driver shrugged, the grease from his cheesesteak still on his flyer's jersey. I had to trust him. Clearly, he had his shit together and was a man of good taste.

"This better be worth my time." I had groomed all of my fur, and I do mean all of it. I carefully made my way through the gate of the chain-link fence to the back parking lot. The lights from Paradise Island were a warm beacon in the distance. Maybe later we'd get some tokens and have a little fun.

There he was, standing in front of the metal garage door. The Trump signs had been pulled down, but the podium was still there. I walked over, taking a moment to stroke my claws along the fire extinguisher. This wasn't that bad. I mean, it wasn't the Four Seasons … well, in a way it was.

"I thought we were going to a nice hotel?" I cocked my hip, leaning against the faded green painted concrete cinder block wall.

"I promise, baby, when we win."

I rolled my eyes. That was the same line he'd been telling me for too long. I should have listened to Drumline Elmo, but I didn't. No matter how fine he danced down the streets of Philly, his drums could never match the beat of my monster's heart. My large, vacant orange eyes had only ever been on this pervert in his cheap blue suit. "Rudy."

"Call me America's mayor." The fire was in his eyes, but I knew he couldn't carry through.

"I am not calling you that." I shook my head, the waves of orange fur softly moving in the breeze. For a moment I looked past the mulch and the topsoil. How did we end up here? How did we end up like this?

He pulled me in for a kiss, my back pressed hard to the wall. He seemed taller today -- not as tall as me though. I hated this, how he imitated everything that other orange love in his life did. Breaking the kiss, I pushed him back, "Are you wearing lifts in your shoes?"

"No!" He denied it, but I knew he was lying. He had that same posture. That stance that looked like you were the front half of a centaur and once anyone described it as that you could never unimagine -- no matter how much brain bleach you tried.

"Baby, don't you lie to me."

"I'm not lying. Once we prove Philadelphia voted for Trump."

Oh, I could take a lot. I could not take that. "Philly did not vote for Trump and you know it." I spun him around. My hand came down on his ass. Fur contacting that cheap blue suit and damn me if my heart didn't flip in my chest. How could I love someone that broke my heart so often? I wasn't a Bill's fan. I was better than this. "I can't do this anymore."

He didn't accept my answer. I knew he wouldn't. Accepting reality wasn't something he did. Instead, he pushed me against that podium, sinking his to his knees to spread the long orange fur over my monsterly bits.

Oh, his mouth knew how to lie, but it knew so much more. He had me gripping the veneer covered podium, gripping onto that cheap wood. I didn't care that this was FOur Seasons Total Landscaping. This could have been a sinking fleet of boats in Texas and I'd be as helpless. As my eyes landed on Paradise Island across the street, I screamed out. Oh, god how did this has-been politician who couldn't even outsmart Borat do this to me?

I was better than this. I forced myself to stand, my fur a mess of fluids as I turned to him. Fuck was he ugly. I was better than this. "Rudy, I can't do this anymore. Trump lost. Give it up. You lost. We're at a fucking lawn and garden center. It's over, baby. It's over. Besides, you'll never be half the man that Philly Drumline Elmo is."

I turned and walked off. I couldn't look back. The sad sight of Rudy Guliani having a mental breakdown between the fire extinguisher and the yellow garden hose was more than I could bear. I needed something tonight, and I knew I could find it at Paradise Island. They had the best selection of dildos this side of the crematorium.

Go Birds!


End file.
